


Lectures on Phonetics

by Saiyan_no_hime



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: All Human AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Corruption of Phonetics, F/M, Linguistics, No Saiyans, Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Professor Vegeta, Student Bulma, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saiyan_no_hime/pseuds/Saiyan_no_hime
Summary: If she was being honest to herself, she became a goner the moment his domineering gaze fell on her feisty one in class, halting any argument that she might have come up with, a brow arched, daring her to fight back while simultaneously commanding her to submit. For the first time in the heiress’s life, words —hell, her breath failed her. Faced with his callous methods and impressive intellect, the brilliant student felt humiliated… and excited. She knew he saw that, thrived on that.[...]“Yes, what an applied student you are…” he purred huskily, brushing her hair back. Drawing closer, he traced a luxurious path across her jaw with devil lips to her ears, before conceding. “You’ve earned yourself a private lesson.”





	1. Vowels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mallie3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallie3/gifts).



> A/N: Hello again!
> 
> After acing my first Phonetics paper, I wanted desperately to share it with a special someone and for some reason Vegeta was the first one to pop into my head, so this fic happened instead. For the ones with knowledge in this particular field, please bear in mind that I've just started studying it, so forgive any mistakes on the classification and description of phonemes. It is nothing but self-indulgence from my part, a guilty pleasure of mine if you will, to picture these two in this situation while in class having to learn this stuff. 
> 
> This was written in response to the Sixth Prompt: Guilty Pleasure of the Vegebul Smutfest, hosted by The Prince and The Heiress Community. There would be no writing of mine without their support and encouragement.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! See you at the bottom!

_Knock knock._

“Come in.” from within the closed office door rang the gruff voice of the feared professor, as he shuffled a few papers on his desk with a soft frown of concentration.

Hearing the creak of the opening door and the click of it shutting, Mr. Ouji raised his detached black eyes to the newcomer, his nonchalant expression broken by the recognition of the figure still standing close to the door. A glint of interest teared its way into his gaze, he held back an instinctive smirk.

Dressed in a pink-striped blouse and a red pencil-skirt, back against the tinted glass pane on the door, was his best student: the brilliant and demanding Ms. Briefs. The calculating man wondered if she was here on an academic or… _a more personal_ … purpose. After running his attentive gaze over the bare creaminess of her calves and plump cleavage, he eagerly hoped for the latter. 

“Are you busy, Vegeta?”

The way his first name fell from her cherry-coated lips and her body was slouching demurely against the door prompted the foreboding quirk of his lips; pleasure, not business, then, must be her goal. Vegeta laid back against the soft black leather of his high office chair, bracing his elbows on its arms.

“I’ve got a few minutes.” He drawled huskily, heated stare focusing on her cerulean depths.

“Great!”

From his dominating perch behind his blackwood desk, then, he watched intently as the young beauty turned the lock to the door —one more confirmation of her intentions— and strode towards him, retrieving a sheet from her bag and dropping it on top of his papers with a grin. His cocksure expression fell to an indignant frown as his gaze followed the test results fluttering to his desktop, before shifting to an icy scowl.

 “If you think you’ll convince me to alter your grades in anyway or give you any extra credits by showing off your results in other classes, Ms. Briefs,” the professor stated briskly, his now cold glare cutting through the undergraduate. “you are sorely mistaken.”

“What…?” Bulma blinked in succession.

“It seems that I misunderstood your intentions. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have far more important work to do.” He dismissed her, turning away from her enticing form and to his laptop, deep down disappointed. He didn’t hear her move, though, only an exasperated sigh, which prompted him to focus back on her. Seeing her not moving, a manicured hand braced on her side, rolling those blue eyes, he was ready to snap at her when she cut in.

“Geez, no need to be grouchy, Vegeta. It’s not that.” The clever woman explained, running her hand through her blue locks. “I don’t think my test results in any classes but his own are any of my Neurolinguistics professor business, so you don’t need to play that part.”

His scowl then softened into a frown of confusion and the professor in question huffed, crossing his arms across his wide chest. “What do you want then, Woman?”

“Well…” her glossy lips curved upwards temptingly as she moved around his desk, coming to stand in front of him, before taking a seat atop the furniture, crossing her slender legs in front of her. “I just received the results from my Applied Phonetics written exam, as you could see…”

Vegeta grunted distractedly, his dark eyes glued to the firm skin of the legs crossed inches from his face.

“And I was so happy…” the wanton woman continued, fastening her hands to the sides of the hardwood and uncrossing her legs, exposing her inner thighs to the man. “I just wanted to share it with someone.”

The subtle arousal that had been kindled when the gorgeous woman entered his office came back full force, tightening his pants around his excitement and straightening his posture. He had been right about her intentions all along, he concluded, the previous fire returning to his gaze as he propped his mouth to the side in a devilish half-smirk. He pulled himself closer.

“Oh…” he started smoothly, calloused hands running up her calves, massaging the toned flesh as he worked his way to succulent thighs, “I see…”, they hiked the red fabric of her skirt up to her hips, exposing her lacy underwear, “You’ve been a good student…” he brought his head down and breathed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, which tingled from the contact, “… And you want me to reward you for that,” he gave the goosebumps-ridden skin a peck, making her whole body shudder, before lifting his smug face to her flushed one with an arched brow and finishing, “…is that it?”

“Y-yeah” stuttered a shaken Bulma, glancing down to the handsome face between her legs with a coy smile. “Don’t you think I deserve it?”

Tearing himself away — admittedly with some difficulty—, Vegeta surprised the Woman, settling nonchalant back into his chair, an elbow propped on the arm and fingers brushing over his lips, donning a thoughtful expression. “I’m not quite sure.”

“What?!” her petulant screech only spurred him on.

“You might have gotten full marks on the written part,” he explained matter-of-factly, “but the field of Phonetics, as you are aware, requires a measure of oral skills that you have yet to show any proof of.”

An incisor bared in his grin, the arrogant man watched gratified as her round-parted lips slowly closed while her bright eyes narrowed, her mouth now slanted in the ghost of a smirk and a cunning gaze drilling into his own. Vegeta saw her excitement at his challenge and knew she would answer in kind.

“Oh.” The young beauty breathed out, hopping gracefully from the desk, now standing in full-height in front of him. “I guess I’ll have to prove you then.”

Despite his cool façade, the prideful professor couldn’t fight the powerful shiver that rushed down his spine when she fell to her knees in front of him, raising her delicate fingers to the button of his dark jeans and deftly exposing his arousal. He was swollen thick in her hands already.

Curling long fingers around the base of his shaft, the blue-haired temptress brought her sinful-red lips close, stopping millimeters away from its flushed-pink head and looking up from under her lashes at his expectant face.

“Should I start with the vowel sounds?” the Woman inquired in a sultry voice, casually pumping him once to punctuate her question.

Lost in the tantalizing pools of blue just beneath him, shook to the core by the pump of her tight fist, Vegeta sank further into the leather of his chair, unable to do little more than nod, momentarily surrendering to his talented student.

Although his mouth was closed, his tongue was rubbing under his incisors while his predatory eyes followed his prey’s every movement. Her head ducked and he felt the wet surface of her tongue sliding up the underside of his length slowly, his hands now gripping the chair’s arms tightly. He choked back a groan when she reached the head, wrapping both hands around his base and promptly taking him halfway into her wide mouth.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” she enunciated around his shaft, her mouth articulated perfectly to produce the correct vowel sound, even as she took him deeper before receding and repeating the motion.

“Uh, yes, that’s… that’s correct.” He murmured, somewhat out of breath “But those are too easy for an applied level, give me the schwa sound.”

It wasn’t as if the schwa sound was that difficult for an English undergraduate, but while the ‘a’ vowel was articulated with a wide-open mouth, with the schwa the lips needed to be more closed, wrapping themselves more tightly around his needy flesh. Something he was desperately urging for.

Eager to impress, to prove herself and, more importantly, to have his dick back in her mouth, Bulma did as told, fastening her lips around his head and pushing in. “Uhhh”

The only downside to this particular phoneme, the dazed professor was then reminded, was how short it was. “Do the ‘i’ in ‘GIRL’ now.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” she spoke around him, taking him in and then coming back for air.

Yes, that was it. The elongated sound, why didn’t he think of that before?

He gave a slight, semi-conscientious thrust of his hips. She felt so good around him.

“Again.” He demanded and she complied, coming down and up on his throbbing cock, producing the sound and then coming up for air. “Again.”

She repeated the same motion again and again, blue mess of hair bobbing up and down on his swollen shaft, all the while vocalizing the chosen vowel. He thanked all the Gods he didn’t believe in for the Woman’s powerful lungs, as Vegeta could feel himself drawing steadily close to completion.

His right hand had pushed from the chair and now his thick fingers twirled and tangled into her mass of blue tendrils, pushing them back from her flushed face, glowing with pre-cum and saliva. His hips had begun to softly rock back and forth, slowly pushing him deeper into her inviting mouth. He was so close, he needed more.

“Do the, uhh, the ‘ah’ sound again.” He urged frantically in a broken voice. “Do it.”

As soon as her lips widened to their max and her tongue and jaw were down, ready to produce the sound ordered, he plunged his swollen cock deep into her throat, choking the vowel before it was even formed. The moment the flushed tip touched her tonsils, the licentious professor was the one to voice it.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, fuck, yes!”

All sense of composure and controlled façade went out the window as he buried himself to the hilt into the warm sheath that was her mouth. Holding her head harshly against him, Vegeta spent himself in its warmth, waves of pleasure shaking him roughly to the core and spilling down her throat. For a tantalizing moment, his mind went blank.

Fuck, she was good.

Settling lazily back into the chair, his now limp dick falling out of her mouth, he watched listless as the blue-haired temptress coughed softly in the aftermath of his load. Still caught in the haze of pleasure, the strict professor remembered why he still took her to bed, in spite of her student status.

The fluorescent lights of his office bounced off the electric blue of her messy curls, creating a thin layer of ethereal light around her head, and reflected in her watery eyes and in his seed tainting her red lips, before her tongue darted out for a taste. Even in its spent state, his cock couldn’t help but twitch at the sight. A fucking goddess knelt before him, her skills unmatched by none before her — there was no way he was going to let her go.

Reaching for her flushed face as she caught her breath, Vegeta cupped her jaw and ran the rough pad of his thumb over her juicy lips, spreading his semen further over her mouth. He felt himself hardening again when she sucked the digit past her lips, the wet brush of tongue against skin igniting a feral possessiveness inside of the usually composed academic, his hand then fastening around the alabaster of the woman’s throat as he crashed his mouth against hers greedily.

_Mine._

Moving his large palm to her nape as he delved deeper into the caverns of her mouth, Vegeta braced his free arm beneath her ass to pull her with him as he stood, his student’s long legs promptly wrapping around his narrow waist as he placed her back on his stalwart desk. With a final bite to her swollen bottom lip, he pulled away, reaching both hands up to cup her expectant face, relishing the wanton flame crackling in the lightning blue of her eyes.

 “Yes, what an applied student you are…” he purred huskily, brushing her hair back. Drawing closer, he traced a luxurious path across her jaw with devil lips to her ears, before conceding. “You’ve earned yourself a private lesson.”


	2. Consonants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma's long awaited private lesson!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I'm back! And just when you thought I had given up on this! 
> 
> Once I saw the 2018 Spring Smutfest Prompts in the Prince and The Heiress Tumblr community the dusty cogs in my mind started whirring like crazy! If you remember, the first chapter of this was a submission for the previous smutfest, so it only seems fitting that the second and final chapter is based off this smutfest prompt. Lots of research went into this, since the prompt was a sexual position: the butterfly. I hope it all pays of! Enjoy!
> 
> xxxx  
> Saiyan-no-Hime

Heart galloping in her chest and struggling through shallow breaths, two distinct urges warred inside Bulma’s blurred mind. Her domineering ego demanded her denial of his proposition, claiming that she didn’t need any of his lectures. Her pride reaffirmed her brilliance: a genius, she should be the one giving him a private lesson, not the other way around.

However, as the condescending professor carefully brushed her locks aside, coarse fingers ghosting over the exposed slip of her neck, a rival instinct emerged victorious — her submissive need to turn herself over to his ministrations, sucking up every drop of what the professor’s rugged body had to teach her, eager to please and be pleased. Her logical reasoning had no other choice but to retreat, a final coherent thought flashing in its wake.

_I’m doomed._

If she was being honest to herself, she became a goner the moment his domineering gaze fell on her feisty one in class, halting any argument that she might have come up with, a brow arched, daring her to fight back while simultaneously commanding her to submit. For the first time in the heiress’s life, words —hell, her breath failed her. Faced with his callous methods and impressive intellect, the brilliant student felt humiliated… and excited. She knew he saw that, thrived on that.

Now, as the end of her second semester under his tutelage approached, the usually level-headed, independent young woman found herself again perched on that infamous desk, pale legs clinging desperately to his waist, hands braced on his clothed pectorals as dexterous fingers swiftly unbuttoned her blouse. Lolling her head back, the accomplished student bared her throat to her superior as he pushed the garment open and down her arms, avid mouth latching onto the newly exposed skin without missing a beat.

If Bulma was the stuff of dreams, Vegeta was the fabric of sin.

Every touch of his, as small as it may be, set her ivory skin alight, feeding the flames brewing in her core, the ones only him seemed able to ignite. The heiress had never needed anything —or anyone— like her body, her whole being craved his. As he lavished her neck, a frantic hand darted into his wild mane, aching for more proximity, more of him. His dark chuckle fanned over her humid skin, prompting gooseflesh that ran all the way to her toes.

“Eager to start, are we?” he husked in her ear, taking her lobe in his wet lips. Struggling through the heady haze she stuttered a moan of affirmation. “Very well.”

Drawing back to fix his dark gaze on her flushed face, he looped an index under the latch between her breasts and flipped, popping open the lacy navy-blue brassiere deftly. Even being thoroughly used to his expertise by now, the young student couldn’t help but gasp at the move, prompting the cocky curl of his lips. Forget her sanity, this man would be the death of her.

“On to consonants, then.”

Even barely able to make sense of his words, the observant student didn’t fail to notice his ominous gaze falling to her breasts. Another jolt of arousal coursed through her at the attention, hardening her nipples, to the dominant professor’s delight. Yes, his desire for her fueled the temptress inside of her and Bulma found herself bracing both hands on the desktop behind her, jutting out her chest — another submissive response he always managed to evoke from her.

It was all the prompt he needed.

A flash of pearly whites and his calloused hands were on her, cupping, testing the weight. The young woman had to bite her lip hard not to moan at the ministrations, her dazed gaze captured by his teasing one. He pinched one nub; she mewled. That cocky smirk once again took hold of his face as he worked her nipples, deriving pleasure from each gasp and moan he drew from her.

“Let’s start with the fricatives…” he murmured, mouth again against her collar, his lips leaving a tingling trail in their wake, making it harder for the clever student to pay attention to his words.

She had no intention to give in so easily, especially when he seemed so taken by the lecture, but it was difficult for her to focus. Shutting her eyes with a frown, she tried to pull from her memory the information he was referring to. The college girl had just taken a test on this, it was still fresh in her memory, no matter how hazy her mind currently was— it was still the mind of a genius.

Bulma had just managed to recall the appropriate phonemes when he descended on her tits, fastening hungry lips on a tumid nub, caressing it lightly with his tongue while his hand flicked the other. Her mind drew blank.

“ _FFFFFF_ …UCK!” she whined, head thrown back from the shock of pleasure. He chuckled hoarsely against her chest, her now wet nipple popping off his mouth. “ _Vvvv_ ery good.”

Before she could process his praise, however, came the swift reward: the doting professor opened his mouth wide and seized one breast, sucking most of the soft flesh in vigorously. A breathy moan left Bulma’s red lips as the contact prompted a steady pulse between her thighs. As good as his teasing was, she was needing some relieve, his attention from before had already left her wet and servicing him had only made it worse.

Somewhat desperate and driven by instinct, she fisted his hair and pulled, trying to get him to look at her. Unfortunately, all she got was a muffled groan and a bite, to which she replied with a gasp. Fuck, she needed him elsewhere.

That was when it hit her.

“Vulva!” exclaimed she, digging her heels into his back to pull him against her, pressing her needy flesh against his hardening member, hoping to get her message properly across. Maybe even a bonus for keeping to the subject.  This time her breast slipped out of his mouth with his groan, hips thrusting back against her.

“Right…” he huffed out, eyes narrowed and a quirk to his lips. The professor straightened himself up and ran his hands down her sides to her thighs, pulling her closer. “Time to move on, then.”

A hum spilled out of her mouth when once again he massaged her calves and she leaned back on the desk instinctively, sweaty palms bracing her weight on the hardwood. Bulma couldn’t help rolling her hips when his strong hands pulled her legs wider apart, her skirt inching up to her waist. That’s what she was talking about!

Her satisfaction and expectation didn’t go unnoticed by the cunning professor — it rarely did. His face was tantalizingly close to hers, his dark eyes focused solely on her as his hands worked their way to her center.

“You’re such a teacher’s pet, so eager for my next lesson…” he hushed out, eyes falling to her lips as his minty breath ghosted over her face.

 She then felt the roughened pads of his fingers brushing against her as he pulled her underwear to the side, anticipation drawing her eyes closed with a breathy sigh.

“Is that what you want, Miss Briefs?” he hushed against her lips, knuckles rubbing against her folds as he played with the lacy blue fabric, sending flutters through her core.

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

He pushed the offending piece of clothing fully to the side and cupped her womanhood, middle-finger circling her tight entrance. She tried hard to find her voice.

“Yes, Mr. Ouji…”

“There you go…” he mouthed along her jaw, the vibration of his baritone working wonders on her tingling fresh.  Then he started rubbing three fingers against her, spreading her natural lubricant thoroughly, and the arms that were keeping her torso upright trembled precariously.

Weak moans slipped past her lips, before they were once again covered by the professor’s voracious mouth as he steadily increased pressure. Her collar bone was next and finally, her breasts. As he lavished them with his tongue, now rubbing furiously at her center, waves of pleasure washing over her midriff increased in length and she moaned continuously at the feel.

Hazily, Bulma wondered if the callouses on his fingers were from too much writing or something else, before deciding to thank the gods for their existence anyway, as the rough surface only heightened the feel.

“Let’s. Go over. Laterals.” He murmured against her chest, punctuating the statement with licks to her nipples and a light graze of teeth that made her yelp.

“Hmmm…”

“Tell me…” he started, halting his movements, and lifting his gaze to her flushed face, eyes narrowed inquisitively. The attentive student whined lightly at the loss, but focused doe-eyes on him nonetheless. She wouldn’t dare ignore one of his lessons. “Their manner of articulation.”

With the arch of one of his black brows, challenging gaze trained on her, he slipped a finger inside. Her eyes rolled into her head as she threw it back with a gasp. Fuck, that wasn’t fair.

“How…” the brilliant student whined, facing him accusingly before being interrupted by the pump of his dexterous finger. “How am I… supposed to answer li-like t-that?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” another finger joined the first and Bulma’s arms gave out. She was now lowered onto her elbows on the desk. “I’m disappointed in you, Miss Briefs.”

Raising her gaze from his ministrations to his attempt at hiding a smirk, she gritted her teeth in an attempt to steer her thoughts in the right direction. The jerk was trying his damnedest to scramble her brains, but the heiress wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction, not without a proper fight. Her perfectly lined eyebrows hunched closer as she thought.

“I know that!” she griped, her pitch breathy-high. “It’s-”

A third finger was added to the mix and the connection between her mouth and brain shortcut, nothing but keen wails spilling from her lips.

“Clearly you don’t.”

Bulma swallowed her protest once she felt his lips on her navel. Was he…?

“Maybe…” sharp teeth punctured her left hipbone; she squealed. “You need a demonstration.”

Vegeta straightened, hooking fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs in one quick motion, quickly discarding them to then spread her thighs on the desk once again and kneel before them.

 Mouth agape, chest heaving, and one blue tendril glued to her forehead with sweat, the student watched over the expanse of her torso as the strict professor pulled her lips apart slowly with dexterous fingers and brought his mouth to her, dark gaze never leaving hers. The moment the clammy tip of his tongue made contact with her core she arched heavily, her whole body sparking to life as if struck by lightning. It was like an out of body experience, she couldn’t even recognize the drawn-out moan that crossed her lips as hers.

She felt him sweeping his palate up her slit to then curl the tip at her clit, rubbing it deliciously before restarting the process. It started out painstakingly slow, but he eventually picked up enough momentum to be chin-deep in her, the furious strokes of his tongue inside her having her writhing atop his desk, the hardwood slick with her sweat.

At some point her hand had once again found purchase in his unruly mane, gripping the coarse locks tight between her fingers, pulling him closer, the other one hanging off the desk above her head, which darted frantically from side-to-side. No coherent thought crossed her mind, nothing but hedonistic urges and broken commands of _Faster, More!_

Not that the professor needed any of those to know what to do in his unrelenting pursuit of her climax. She felt as if his tongue would be forever imprinted on her walls, his aristocratic nose brushing roughly against her pleasure nub every time he dug deeper before curling back out. She wouldn’t be lasting much longer now. The pressure was building.

She choked on her moans.

“Ve-vegeta!”

Pulling out to curl his tongue against her clit, he thrusted three fingers inside, and that was it.

Light exploded behind her eyelids in a myriad of colors too bright for her to follow, her whole body spasming as her walls clenched desperately around his still-pumping fingers. She felt herself soaring weightless as she rode the crest of her pleasure, thighs smothering her teacher, back arched and face contorted in the purest expression of elation. A soothing warmth took hold of her chest.

While his gorgeous student was still riding the orgasmic high, pleasantly disoriented, the cunning professor lost no time in getting back to his feet, bringing those slender thighs of hers with him and securing her feet over his shoulders before burying himself inside her in one harsh thrust to the sound of a sharp gasp, her juices easing his way in.

“Fuck.” He gasped.

No matter how good it felt to fuck her mouth, no feeling would ever compare to being buried to the hilt in her, tight walls squeezing his cock almost painfully. Through hooded eyes he watched as her mouth contorted into that ‘o’ that he loved, a discharge of extra adrenaline rushing straight to his dick upon the sight, and he started pulling out of her, reveling in every inch of mind-blowing friction as he did. Gripping her ankles to pull her lower back up and off the desk, repositioning at her entrance, he rammed into her again, the new angle enabling him to hit that sweet spot inside of her that had her keening, palms splayed on the desktop, eyes wild with pleasure, walls clenching blissfully around him.

This-this must be what heaven felt like.

Having found the perfect angle, Vegeta picked up his pace, soon slamming into her without mercy, his balls slapping against her butt as he sank into her again and again, claiming every part, every inch of her to him. The end of the semester meant nothing, she’d always be his. Feral eyes sweeping over pleasure-taken features, the professor brought his mouth to her right ankle, the left one gripped tightly in his hand as he leaned over her, bending her further while pulling her left foot to the side, near her head. He wanted to completely cover her lithe body with his, brand her with his heat.

“ah-ah-ah-ah-ve-vegeta!”

He reached for one tit with his free hand, squeezing it tight.

“What did you call me?!” he growled to her panting face.

“Pro-professor!” she stuttered in a moan.

“Professor what?!” he demanded, snarl in place as he beat himself fiercely inside of her, the desk rocking with his thrusts. “Say it!”

“Professor Ouji!” she wailed in a broken voice. “I’m-I’m cu-mminnnnng!”

He could feel her walls clinging to him, sucking him back in desperately every time he pulled out, he could sense his own dam so close to overflowing, all that pent-up frustration from his day, all the aggression and sexual tension accumulated between them in class today; it was close. They were close. Forcing her legs further against her torso, hitting even deeper than before, Vegeta brought his lips to her ear:

“Come for me, miss Briefs.”

It was as if she had only been waiting for his command, his permission to release wave after wave of euphoric pleasure, her whole body convulsing in spasms too grand to fathom, tipping him over the edge as well, howling her name with abandon, muscles tightening over her in a desperate urge to become one, to assimilate the other into themselves, her arms wound around his shoulders, begging him, not to ever let go.

They rode the high together, bodies moving in tandem as if they had been made for this sole purpose, eventually dialing down to languorous moves and then sagging against each other, completely spent.  

“So…” Bulma was the first to break their comfortable silence, dragging one finger up his spine and nuzzling his shoulder. “Do I pass?”

Letting go off her legs and settling comfortable on top of her on the desk, foreheads and noses touching, gaze fixed on her bruised-red lips, the demanding professor smirked, one hand reaching up to brush back wild aqua locks.

“You aced it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, what'dya think? Is it good? Need work? Don't forget to send those kudos my way if you think I deserve 'em and make sure to comment as well to let me know exactly which part was your favourite!
> 
> Til next time,   
> Saiyan-no-Hime

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sooooooooooo! Did you like it? Too cliche? Too cheesy? A complete corruption of the use of the IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet) ? Please, tell me what you think, in detail, so that I can fill this petty existence of mine with something to do. I am planning on posting more to this, at least one more chapter, and feedback would not only be greatly appreciated, but it would actually keep me writing and motivated enough to finish this, so please let me know.
> 
> Till the next hit,  
> Saiyan-no-hime


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